


Just A Little Taste

by taggiecb



Series: Play [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Banter, Blow Jobs, Communication, Dirty Talk, Famous Harry, London, M/M, Non-Famous Louis, Rock Star Harry, Sexual Tension, Smut, famous/non-famous, zouis friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 19:44:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15226500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taggiecb/pseuds/taggiecb
Summary: An unbelievable and amazing night with rock star Harry Styles comes to a close for Louis, but that doesn't mean it's the end. Louis feels like something is actually just beginning.





	Just A Little Taste

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a Wordplay prompt challenge that a group of us are participating in for the prompt "Need". To read the amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/need/works), and to see all fics written as part of the challenge, [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wordplay_fic_challenge/works) or find the masterpost for this year’s challenge here.
> 
> Thank you so much to Nic and Cynthia for helping me edit last minute, you are both so wonderful. And thank you Anitra for being there for me every day. Xo

In a daze, Louis eventually makes his way home from Harry’s concert. Nothing that the Uber driver says to him manages to filter through, and neither does anything Zayn says when Louis finally answers his phone. Louis just keeps pleading for them to talk later when Zayn gets home from work. He can’t do anything else. His brain is entirely filled with Harry Styles. 

When he gets in through the door, instead of the dark empty flat that he is expecting to find, he has Zayn staring at him, arms crossed and concern laid all over his face. 

“What are you doing home?” Louis asks, tossing his shoes near the rack by the door. His limbs feel heavy and he just wants to shower, eat a sandwich, and sleep. Not necessarily in that order. 

“I was worried about you. You sounded awful when I called, which by the way I called you for hours before you answered. I thought something happened. I still think something happened,” Zayn interrogates him, getting closer and inspecting Louis with every step. 

“Wait a minute.” Louis puts his finger up to silence Zayn for a moment. “You weren’t willing to miss a shift to help me do a very important mission when you knew that I was relying on you…” 

Zayn rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to protest, but Louis puts the finger in the air on Zayn’s mouth. “But when I was in the safety of an Uber on my way home telling you that I  _ didn’t _ want to talk to you at the moment, you were on your way out the door.” At this Louis lowers his finger and crosses his arms, inviting Zayn to defend himself. 

“You have to admit that you look a bit rough. I have every cause for concern.” Zayn eyes him again. 

“Really. I look rough. Please Zayn, tell me what is causing me to look rough.” Louis air quotes  _ rough, _ smirking. 

“Well for starters, your hair is a mess. Your eyes are a bit dilated. All of your clothes are wrinkled, and…” Zayn stops talking. His face turns to a scowl as he lifts the hem of Louis’ shirt. “And your shirt’s on inside out. I left work because you’re in a sex haze?!” 

Louis laughs out loud. Tears form in the corner of his eyes as Zayn quietly curses and starts to strip off his work clothes. “I didn’t tell you to come home. It could have waited until morning.” Louis shrugs innocently.

“I’m not sad that you are leaving soon.” Zayn shoots him a dirty look. 

“Yes, you are.” Louis smiles sweetly at him. They joke about Louis moving to L.A. at least twice a week, but it’s just to mask their massive insecurity about leaving one another. “But now that you are home, I need to tell you something.” 

Almost as soon as he says it his phone pings from his pocket. He fights the urge to check it immediately. 

“And what’s that? You obviously didn’t get arrested. How did you even find someone to sleep with in the short time you’ve been gone? You were supposed to be at a Harry Styles concert.” 

“Oh, I was at the concert,” Louis says with a sly smile as he puts on a pot of tea. He doesn’t imagine sleep is in the cards for him tonight. 

“So, someone you just met, or someone you already know?” Zayn follows and sits down in just his underwear. Louis resists the urge to take a pic and send it anonymously to Zayn’s massive crush. He doesn’t because he’s a good person.

“Both?” he replies, giggling at the way Zayn rubs his face. Louis knows that face. Zayn’s probably counting to ten in his head and trying not to envisage Louis in some sort of painful torture device. 

“Can we please cut the coy act and just tell me how you managed to go to a concert, hook up, and be home before I finished a shift at the club?” Zayn gulps the tea down like it’s his life source. 

“Harry,” Louis answers, feeling triumphant when Zayn’s face flows through a range of emotions. He starts with confusion, moves to realisation, and then to likely weighing the probability, then disbelief, then to studying Louis for signs of lying, and finally to defeat. 

“Are you trying to tell me what I think you’re trying to tell me? Because if so, I don’t have time for this, and I’m going to bed,” Zayn threatens him while not actually moving to go anywhere. Louis just shakes his head, calling his bluff. 

“Now you know _ me, _ ” Louis places a hand on his chest, full of flamboyance and fake genuineness. “I’m never one to kiss and tell—”

“Right,” Zayn interrupts him. 

“But oh my, it was magical.” Louis sighs and sits on the stool nearest him, not having to fake it at all this time. Just thinking about the evening he spent with Harry makes him want to swoon. 

“Magical. With Harry Styles. Who is a famous rock star,” Zayn reiterates, face deadpan. 

“Yeah!” Louis agrees. He knows he’s being obtuse, but he doesn’t actually know where to start. 

“I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this story.” Zayn runs fingers through his hair just as Louis’ phone dings again. This time he doesn’t hesitate to pull the phone from his pocket. It’s Harry. He’s not exactly surprised, but he is so very happy. He can feel the butterflies in his stomach. 

**_I’m back at the hotel_ **

That’s what the first text from a few minutes ago says. Louis smiles as though it were a declaration of love. 

**_I wish you were here. Want you_ **

The newest one causes Louis’ neck and cheeks to flash hot. He’s about to reply when Zayn pulls him out of his quickly developing fantasy of showing up at Harry’s door wearing nothing but a trench coat.

“That’s him I suppose.” Zayn’s voice is bordering on hysterical. “That’s Harry Styles, international music artist who just performed a stadium show, texting you a cheeky hello?” 

“You’re the one who asked,” Louis says, still boring his eyes into his phone as though Harry is going to magically appear on it. He finally decides on a perfect reply. 

_ Arrogant rock stars think that they can get anything at all by saying I want _

He hopes that Harry knows that it’s a quip. They had such an easy banter when they were face to face. It only takes a moment before Harry replies back, causing Louis to have to force down a high-pitched squee. 

**_Oh I’m willing to work for it. Trust me._ **

Louis is happy that he both understood the snark and is willing to play back. 

“You know what?” Zayn sighs dramatically. “Don’t tell me. I am the one who asked. I’m glad you’re not dead, I’m getting some sleep.” Zayn really does walk out of the kitchen this time. 

“Night Z, see you tomorrow!” Louis calls to him without looking away from the growing thread on his text with Harry. 

  
  


Louis doesn’t actually know when he fell asleep. At least he’s in his bed, but he and Harry had decided that instead of texting they were going to FaceTime. Which given the time of day, or night rather, and the fact that technically both Harry and Louis had jobs and responsibilities the next day, probably wasn’t a good idea. At least he had the good sense to plug his phone in at one point, giving him a full battery and a text to start the morning. 

**_You look hot when you sleep. Entirely unfair._ **

He giggles involuntarily and gets up to pee and rush through a morning routine. He doesn’t expect to see Zayn, as he isn’t exactly a morning person, and he’s right because Zayn’s door is firmly shut, and the kitchen is empty. He’s a bit disappointed though because he feels like he could burst if he doesn’t talk to someone about whatever this feeling in his gut is. It feels like more than want, more than his libido working overtime for a hot guy. It feels like it could be more. 

The thought frightens Louis into ignoring it and getting out the door. He needs to make this internship at Random House count if he plans on getting a permanent position at headquarters in New York. The thought of moving to the states gives him a whole new set of butterflies that he has to tamp down as he makes his way out onto the London streets. 

 

He doesn’t even know why he bothered to come to work. It’s basically a write off. He can’t think of anything or anyone besides Harry Styles. Every time his name is mentioned, which seems to be a lot given he had a concert the night before, Louis feels as though he is being personally attacked. The first chance he gets, he hides in the most secluded bathroom in the building and pulls out his phone.

_ The sex haze has worn off. Now I’m just living in the cold harsh reality of knowing what you look like naked, and not knowing when I will be able to see your dick again. _

He smirks because he’s trying to get a rise out of Harry, but he also frowns because there is a grain of truth in it. Of all of the things they’ve talked about, along with all of the not talking they’ve done, they haven’t actually talked about anything past last night. 

It only takes a few moments for his phone to ping with a response.

**_How poetic_ **

Louis snorts. 

_ How dismissive _

**_How about you say that to my face?_ **

_ How about that is what I’m trying to tell you? _

**_How about tonight? I’ve got one more show. Knowing you were watching me sing would be such fucking foreplay._ **

Louis barks out a laugh, but can’t deny the jolt in his trousers at the idea of Harry eye fucking him in front of tens of thousands of people. 

_ Who’s being poetic now?  _ He jokes. 

**_Say you’ll come._ **

_ I’ll come. Course I’ll come.  _

Something besides arousal fills him for a moment. He tries to shake it out of himself. He isn’t thinking beyond tonight. Not yet. He can’t. 

Harry texts after a few minutes.  **_Bring someone if you want. Your name is on the list._ **

Louis smiles to himself before another bubble pops up

**_To the show that is. After the show, you’re all mine._ **

_ You’ve got a deal. See you tonight.  _

He pockets his phone, and gets back to his desk with a smile plastered on his face. 

 

Louis walks into the entrance of Wembley much in the same fashion he did the night before. This time though Zayn is in tow, looking around like someone is about to jump out and scream ‘Gotcha!’

“Ok, don’t you think you’ve taken this prank a little too far?” Zayn asks as they stand in line with people who actually have tickets. 

“God Zayn, even I wouldn’t drag you all the way here just to keep some sort of weird prank going.” He rolls his eyes, hoping to mask the tiny seed of doubt that Harry had forgotten about him, or just didn’t care. 

He takes a deep breath when they make it to a bored looking security guard with his hand out for their non-existent tickets. 

“Um, we were told our tickets would be waiting for us?” Louis hates how unsure his voice sounds. 

“No tickets here pal. Next!” The guy looks over his and Zayn’s heads. 

“Harry told us to get in line and tell you our names?” Louis continues. He is semi-convinced that this guy is just going to kick them out of the entire place and that would be the end of that. 

The guy sighs dramatically. “What are your names then?” he asks, faking patience. 

“Louis Tomlinson, and guest,” Louis says, much more confident this time. The guy mumbles something into a radio clipped to his side and nods. 

“Wait here, someone is coming to get you.” The guy points to the empty spot next to him. “Next!” 

They shuffle in beside the burly guy who takes his hard mask off for just a moment, giving them a nod before he’s back to being scary security man. Zayn looks like he’s seen a ghost, and keeps looking at Louis like he’s about to explode. Louis shoots him a look that says  _ told you _ before another scary looking guy with a couple of passes shows up, telling them to come with him. 

The concert is excellent. Harry seems even more obscene than he did the night before. And this time Louis definitely notices his preference for looking at one person in particular. That person being him, of course. Harry sprays water, and jumps around, and teases the crowd, but when he is singing, especially the more sexual lyrics, Louis feels like eyes are burning directly into him. The intense stare goes straight to Louis’ libido. 

When the last song is about to start, the same man that escorted him and Zayn to their seats comes up to stand in front of them. Louis is still a little intimidated by him although he has an inviting smile for both him and Zayn. 

“Harry told me to come and get you so that you would be there when he gets off stage,” the man tells Louis. 

“Yeah ok, thanks. I’m just going to say bye to my friend,” Louis tells him. The man glances at Zayn, almost eying him up. Louis waits for him to say something, but the man just nods. 

“You ok to get home alone?” Louis asks, although they had already planned for Zayn to leave without him. Louis feels a wave of guilt for abandoning Zayn completely before the concert is even over. 

“I’m fine. Will you be fine?” Zayn asks, imploring with his dark eyes. 

“More than fine!” Louis yells over the screams as Harry spouts some nonsense in front of them. 

“Lou, before you go…” Zayn bites his lip, and looks towards Harry who is giving Louis not so subtle glances. “Let me just say, sorry for not believing you.” 

“It’s fine, kind of a hard story to believe.” Louis laughs. 

“And maybe impart a bit of wisdom?” he asks. 

“Uh, yah, ’course.” 

“Be careful. You don’t know this guy. I’m sure he’s great but… make sure he’s not just looking for a groupie.” 

“Zayn, I hardly know the guy,” Louis protests, brushing off the dip in his gut.

“And you’re already falling. I can see it in your face,” Zayn says. He takes Louis in for a quick hug. “Just be careful alright?” he says into Louis’ ear before he releases him, and nods towards the guy still waiting to escort Louis backstage. Louis nods, taking Zayn’s advice to heart, if just to make Zayn feel better before he walks off through the crowds. 

 

Harry’s dressing room looks exactly the same as it did the night before. Makes sense, Louis guesses. He isn’t sure why he expected a grand change. He supposes because everything feels different this time around. 

Harry walks into the room with urgency. Louis doesn’t miss the flick of his wrist as he locks the door behind him. He immediately moves into Louis’ space kissing him hard and desperate. Louis happily reciprocates, feeling like he’s been holding his breath until the moment their lips met again. 

“You’re all sweaty,” Louis jokes, trying to at least offer a greeting before clothes start finding themselves on the floor. 

“I am,” Harry agrees, not making a move to remove his lips from Louis’. “Should I stop and shower?” he asks as he slips a warm hand up the back of Louis shirt. 

“Fuck no.” Louis pulls the shirt off completely, earning him a hungry glare before Harry starts stripping everything he has on off in a frenzy of silky fabric. 

Louis does the same, and they meet in the middle again, completely naked. Louis notes somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind that it shouldn’t be this easy, being naked in front of someone he just met the day before. 

“I need you so bad Lou.” Harry moans as their hard cocks meet between their impossibly close bodies. 

“ _ Need _ is it? Last night it was just want,” Louis teases. He brings a hand down and lightly strokes them both at the same time. Harry moans again, low and guttural. 

“That was before I saw you in those jeans tonight.” Harry wraps his hand around one of Louis’ ass cheeks and grips it hard. “And before I saw who you brought as a date to my show. Fuck I wanted to ask Paul to kick him out. But the jealousy kind of fueled my show, so I chose the green-eyed monster.” 

Louis tips his head back to laugh. Harry takes the opportunity to nip at the soft skin of his throat. “That’s my roommate Zayn. He’s stupid pretty, I know.” 

“Roommate.” Harry grips the other cheek and lifts Louis off the ground, lowering him onto one of the couches pushed up against the wall. 

He pushes Louis back so that he’s almost flat on his back, only his head and neck elevated by the arm of the couch. Harry immediately kneels between his legs. 

“Want to do so many things to you, Lou. So many dirty things,” Harry says, not taking his eyes off of Louis’ rock hard erection. 

“Do them,” Louis pleads. “All of them.” 

Harry smirks, and begins jerking Louis off slowly. So slowly. “You don’t even know what they are,” he says. 

“I don’t care,” Louis begs. 

“Right now all I want to do is suck you off.” Harry licks a stripe from the base of Louis’ cock to the tip. Louis is stunned silent for a good fifteen seconds before his tongue remembers how to work again. 

“That… that’s not very dirty,” Louis challenges him, although getting sucked off by Harry sounds pretty fucking nice anyway.

“Then I want to come all over you. Your mouth, your face, your chest. Want to mark my territory, want to make you mine.”

“Fuck yes.” Louis breathes. Harry takes that as a go ahead, and dives straight onto Louis’ cock, sucking and bobbing joyfully. “Your mouth was made for this.” Louis groans, gyrating his hips ever so slightly and curling his fingers into Harry scalp. Harry takes him deep, holding himself until neither of them can barely stand it, then goes back to sucking. 

It seems like it’s only seconds before Louis is on the edge. Harry must feel it as well as he keeps taking him deeper longer. Louis utters what is likely nonsense telling Harry that he’s coming, but Harry keeps on him, letting Louis empty into his mouth. Louis feels like his entire soul has been sucked out through his dick, and it feels blissful. 

“Still wanna come on you,” Harry says. His voice is deep and ragged. Louis just nods, and Harry stands in front of him, getting himself off. The sight of it alone could have been enough to get Louis off as well, but he’s too spent to even twitch with interest. 

Harry’s eyes shut tight, and his head tips back right before he orgasms, but when he comes he looks down at the mess he makes on Louis’ body. His chest mostly. Louis doesn’t take his eyes off Harry, who looks almost amazed by what they did. 

Louis pulls Harry down beside him. They lay side by side, heaving for breath for a few moments. 

“Guess we both need a shower now,” Harry jokes. 

It’s not that funny, but Louis laughs because he’s so giddy. “Guess so,” he agrees, looking down at his debauched self. He’s almost scared to move, scared to burst the bubble. 

“Then we can try one of the other things,” Harry suggests, and Louis laughs all over again.

“You’re on.” 

They sit in silence. Neither of them want to make the first move, say the first thing. Louis sighs, and sits up.

“This can’t be it,” he says to Harry.

“What?” Harry replies, but Louis can tell that he knows what Louis is trying to say.

“Last night, tonight. I don’t want that to be it. I like you. I like sex with you, but I like you too. This can’t be the end,” Louis says. 

“Why would this be the end?” Harry asks, sitting up as well. They’re both still naked, and it should be weird, but it’s not. It’s not, and that is important.

“It’s your last night in London. You do what you do, I do what I do.” Louis waves a hand around vaguely. “I don’t want it to be done, but I don’t know what you thought this was, so I’m just telling you that if it was up to me, I don’t want it. To be done,” Louis peters out. 

“This is my last show in London.” Harry nods, agreeing to that one sentiment at least. “But if you didn’t notice, I’m English. Got the accent and everything.” He points to his mouth, which Louis would find comical if he wasn’t facing some sort of emotional crisis waiting for Harry’s slow as cold molasses voice coming out. “I’m leaving the city Lou, I’m not dying.” He smirks. 

“I know, but you’re life is a lot different than mine,” Louis argues, although he isn’t sure why he’s trying to change Harry’s mind. He wants this. 

“I already told you that I am slowly going to wear you down. I haven’t changed my mind.” Harry softly kisses Louis’ shoulder. 

“We’re naked and it isn’t weird,” Louis blurts out. It shouldn’t make sense. It’s a random sentence, but Harry nods. 

“I know.” 

“Zayn told me not be become a groupie.” Louis’ voice is small and he hates it. It’s the one insecurity that he had felt since he met Harry. Even though it could have been fun having a fling, it’s not like that with Harry, it never could be for Louis. 

“I’m going to woo you so hard, Louis, that you aren’t even going to know when I’m not around. You’ll see.” Harry curls into him now. It’s so intimate, and so soft, Louis can’t help but give in to it. “I told you that I would work for it. I didn’t just mean the sex.” 

“I should start listening to you more,” Louis says with a chuckle. 

“I should get that on tape for the wedding,” Harry muses. 

“Wedding?!” 

“Shhh.” Harry places a finger on his lips. “I’ll be gentle, you won’t be blindsided by the proposal or anything.” 

“Oh my God Harry.” Louis rolls his eyes, but smiles and stands up. “Let's go find a shower.”

“Better yet, let's get dressed, and go back to my hotel. It’s a little more luxurious there.” Harry holds his hand out to Louis, and it feels like an offer of more than just a fancy shower. Louis happily takes his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Please reblog my fic post here


End file.
